


no one gives us any time anymore

by Andromaca



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: F/F, fem!AU, getting caught
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-29
Updated: 2016-08-29
Packaged: 2018-08-11 19:19:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7904539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Andromaca/pseuds/Andromaca
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on OTPBot's tweet, "Your OTP getting caught making out."</p>
            </blockquote>





	no one gives us any time anymore

**Author's Note:**

> this is just cheesy

The close proximity of Oikawa’s nose to Ushijima’s own wasn't doing her any favours; if anything, it made her really self-conscious. The confined space of the storage room felt infinitely smaller than it already was, felt way too crowded even with only two people in there. It was difficult to think, when Oikawa’s bangs tickled her forehead, and when Ushijima could see every fine detail about her face — her eyes, her long lashes, the plump of her pink lips — but, more than anything else, it was difficult to even keep herself from leaning in and kissing her.

Oikawa giggled, and her thumb brushed the high of Ushijima’s cheekbone. “You have an eyelash…”

Ushijima closed her eyes and exhaled gently. She trusted Oikawa not to poke her eye out — although she found herself pleasantly surprised when she felt soft lips kissing her, and not a finger in her eye. So gentle and so chaste, Ushijima relinquished in the familiar feeling of it all. It wasn’t their first kiss — although, it was actually their first kiss in a storage room that smelled like dust and old floor detergent — she was familiar with the way Oikawa felt against her, the way her hand would cling to whatever part of Ushijima it could grasp, and she was familiar with the soft weight of Oikawa’s breasts against hers. Ushijima had absolutely no logical reason to feel butterflies in her stomach — except she did.

Oikawa smiled into the kiss, and Ushijima was worried she had done something laughable. Even after all of Oikawa’s “training” (which, Ushijima sort of suspected was only an excuse to engage in make out sessions) Ushijima wasn’t sure she had gotten the hang of this. She parted from Oikawa, and opened her eyes. “Is the eyelash still there, Oikawa?”

Oikawa sighed, and leaned back and away from Ushijima. “Ushiwaka-chan,” she started, matter-of-factly, “Mine was an excuse to kiss you.”

Ushijima blushed. “Oh,” and she leant back in, “Then you have an eyelash too…”

Again, it was barely more than a soft pressing of lips at first — the only pleasure coming from being so close to each other, from their breaths coming together slowly, and from their fingers intertwining. It was the kiss two children would give each other — free of malice, and not tainted with lust, if only symbol of pure and unadulterated love. It was hard to tell who was whose rival now — when their chests pressed against one another, or when Ushijima was pressing Oikawa into the wall behind her back.

Oikawa had just brought her free hand up to cup Ushijima’s face, when she heard a faint “Yeah, they’re here,” and the door to the room they were in being slammed open. She didn’t have to open her eyes, even when Ushijima parted from her, to recognise the fit of laughter — she couldn’t mistake Hanamaki’s laugh and Matsukawa’s snickering for anyone else’s.

“Look what we have here,” Hanamaki spoke first, “Two girls,”

“Alone in a small room,” Matsukawa joined in.

“And kissing,” Yahaba finished.

“Guys…” Kindaichi nervously patted Hanamaki’s shoulder, “Shouldn’t we leave them alone?”

Hanamaki put her hands on her hips. “And let them keep on doing the unholy on our sacred mops and volleyballs? Hell no.”

Kindaichi was shaking like a leaf — evidently, the idea appalled her — but she didn’t tap anyone else’s shoulder. Oikawa sighed. She wasn’t exactly planning on telling her teammates she occasionally kissed their supposed volleyball rival, much less that they had been actually dating for three months. “God, Hanamaki, you know about my bad knee,” she smirked, “I wouldn’t do Ushijima on those volleyballs, I would choose something much more comfortable — for example,” and she put her hand beneath her chin in mock thought, “Your futon, perhaps?”

**Author's Note:**

> two years ago i wrote comfort iwaois on my birthday  
> today, i wrote comfort ushiois on my birthday


End file.
